


Our Lips Are Made Of Candy

by Waking_dreams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Louis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Fluff, High School AU, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Harry, Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4596894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waking_dreams/pseuds/Waking_dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your knot, please, Louis,” he managed to whine. He needed it, that extra stretch and burn that made him Louis’.</p><p>“Fuck,” Louis moaned, and his thrusts became unsteady. “Can’t do it here, baby, Hazza, can’t—“</p><p>Or, Harry accidentally missed a few doses of his medicine that controls his heat and starts his heat in the middle of Biology. Oops</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Lips Are Made Of Candy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crescendotimetravel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescendotimetravel/gifts).



> Thank you to my beta! :)
> 
> Here's to crescendotimetravel, hope you like it! This definitely got away from me, just a little, and evolved into this giant smut monster.
> 
> Title comes from a song called Don't You by Darren Criss.
> 
> I don't own anything. Absolutely nothing. I don't presume to know anything about the boy's personal lives, or their sexualities, or their relationships.

Harry frowned down at the Biology quiz taunting him from his desk. How was he supposed to just recognize a dicot and a monocot from their seeds? Granted, he hadn’t done the reading on plants, but usually these quizzes were multiple choice. Lifting his head, he scanned the class—was everyone else stumped? Across the room, Niall met his eyes, and drew his finger across his throat, letting his eyes flutter close. Thank God. Maybe it wasn’t just him.

He would just skip that question, he decided. The next one was some sort of diagram of a stem that he was supposed to label. Well, _shit._ He really should have done the reading. Louis had called last night and—well, the reading was quickly forgotten in a flash of moaning over the phone and his own fingers up his arse. Damn Louis and his lovely voice. He pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling his headache resurging despite the two Advil he had already taken. He blamed Biology. What good were plants, anyway? It wasn’t  like he would need to know this, in whatever job he would eventually decide on. He scraped his pencil across the page, doodling a rough mermaid.

“Five more minutes,” his teacher announced from the back of the room.

 _Shit._ He glanced around again. Most students were hunched over, writing with renewed vigor. Niall was balancing a pencil on his lip. His temple throbbed—Harry’s headache was definitely getting worse, and it wasn’t even lunch yet. His mermaid’s hair was lopsided. He tried to erase it, but ended up erasing half her face instead.

The beta girl that sat in front of him stood, walking over to turn in her quiz early. Why did she have to do that? He felt like his stomach was going to fall out—he still hadn’t dredged up an answer for the last few questions, and time was almost up. He dragged his pencil in harsh lines, adding thick eyebrows and a nose piercing to his mermaid. Biology was just not his type of class. He really should try to get some credit, though. He frowned at his paper, the clock, the ceiling, and wrote down of all the plant vocabulary he knew. His teacher was usually pretty generous with assigning partial credit.

“Time’s up,” his teacher called out. “Quizzes to me, please.”

He got out of his seat, knowing he had just failed another quiz. Great. He made a curved path to the teacher’s desk, bumping his shoulder into Niall as he caught up with him.

“Didn’t read?” Niall asked, eyes on the mermaid on the omega’s quiz.

Harry shook his head, shrugging. He had been a little, well, _busy_ last night. Louis had basically cheated, using his alpha voice on him—how could he resist _that_? Niall opened his mouth as if to say more, but then caught himself off with a sudden sniff.

“What, do I smell?” Harry whispered, placing his quiz on the growing pile on the teacher’s desk. He hadn’t showered that morning. He was nearly late to school, tired and vaguely still horny from the night before.

“Haz, you’re not going into heat, are you?” Niall whispered back, wrinkling his nose and leaning away.

Harry froze, felt his stomach drop. Headaches, that vaguely feverish feeling. Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to be, but as he replays the previous evening in his head—

“Fuck, I forgot my suppressant last night,” he groaned aloud. Shit. Shit, shit, _shit._ This was not good. He was at school, for God’s sake, and Louis—he wanted Louis. A hug from Louis, he meant. He was at _school._

Niall turned away, said something in low tones to the teacher, and then bounded back, grabbing Harry’s arm. “We’re going to the nurse, maybe she has something,” he whispered. Niall wasn’t an omega, but heats and suppressants were covered in every Health and Biology class from the time they started school. He may not empathize, but Niall at least understood the need for urgency: being in heat could turn the most level-headed omega wild in only half an hour, and left without treatment, so to speak, could cause serious medical issues—seizures, hallucinations. They had to hurry.

Harry knew his face was red as they left the classroom in arm. It was bad enough that Niall had to help him, but possibly starting his heat at school like it was his first time? Embarrassing. God, he wanted Louis, but he didn’t want to make Louis skip class for him. Even if Louis was his alpha boyfriend. God, it’d be great if he could handle his own hormones for once. The nurse was bound to have _something_ , right? His headache was worse now, somehow, probably because he knew it was hormonal, a warning that his heat was about to be here at full swing.

“Just breathe, Haz, the nurse can help you,” Niall told him. The hand on his arm was starting to itch—Niall was a beta, and it was like his body can tell, like his body knows that Niall was not what he wanted. Heats always come like a sledgehammer, with some warning, but entirely too fast to dodge. If he wasn’t so close to his heat’s expected arrival, near the end of the three month cycle his suppressants created, missing a dose wouldn’t have mattered.

They were at the nurse’s office, now, and Niall went in first, explaining quickly to the nurse what had happened. Harry sat hard in a chair by her desk, letting his face drop into his hands. He felt like a kid, like he can’t handle his own hormones. Louis. His fingers itched to take out his phone, text Louis to ask him to come. Louis was in English, his favorite class. Harry wouldn’t make him skip to come comfort him. The nurse would have something right? A backup dose of suppressants, or something?

“How many doses did you miss?” the nurse asked kindly, placing a gentle hand to his arm and kneeling to look at his face.

She was a beta, he knew from just the touch, and he flinched away instinctively. God, he wished he was at home, pressed into Louis’ chest. “One,” he answered. “Was supposed to take it last night at eight.” It had been almost fourteen hours. His entire body felt hot.

“When were you supposed to get your heat?” she asked, and something cool pressed to his forehead. A wet towel, he thought.

“Next Tuesday,” he replied. Niall plopped down next to him, and lightly rubbed at his back. The touches through his shirt weren’t nearly so bad, and he relaxed into it.

“Harry, I’m sorry, but with how close you are to your heat, there’s very little I can do. I can have your mom bring you your dose, but with how overdue it is, it’ll make you sick and it may be too late to prevent your heat from coming on,” the nurse told him apologetically.  He felt his stomach drop, and let his head fall into his hands, fighting back the sting of tears. God, he wasn’t going to cry in the nurse’s office, but he was just so—he was having such a bad day.

“I am, however, going to send you home. No need to suffer through the rest of the day, eh?” she continued, forcing cheerfulness into her tone.

He grunted his appreciation, hot and uncomfortable. He did want to go home. Having a heat was overwhelming and embarrassing enough as it was, without having it in an uncomfortable chair in the nurse’s office. “I have a car,” he told her. “I can drive myself home.” He could text Louis, tell him to leave at lunch and come over.

She paused, and he knew it wouldn’t be good news. “We have to have a parent give approval for you to leave school. You can wait here while I have the receptionist contact your parents.”

Great, more waiting. He nodded, and Niall patted him on the back as the nurse left. She couldn’t do anything. He was starting his heat at school like he was fifteen years old again and presenting as an omega. He sniffled, feeling utterly miserable.

“Do you want me to get Louis?” Niall asked. “He’s in English right now, isn’t he?”

Just hearing Louis’ name was enough to get his heart pumping entirely too fast, and it broke his resolve. He shivered, starting to feel uncomfortable at the scratch of his clothes over his skin. Louis. God, he wanted a Louis hug.  And he wanted Niall to stop hovering, and to leave before he got all hazy and—

“Please,” he said back, closing his eyes and picturing his boyfriend here right now, having his face buried in Louis’ neck. English could wait. He knew Louis would come.

“Be back soon,” Niall promised, and left.

Alone in the room, Harry felt even more uncomfortable, feeling hot and restless. He shifted in his seat, and froze at the feeling of wetness between his legs. Fuck. He was wet already, and he hadn’t even gotten home, let alone had the school get a hold of his mum so he could go home in the first place. He wanted Louis. He also wanted a pad, so that he wouldn’t fucking soak through his pants before he could get home. And if he was wet already, he needed to get home fast before he was too desperate for cock.

Just the thought of being fucked had him shuddering in his chair, his cock starting to swell in his pants. Louis. Louis and his cock, splitting him open and filling him and _yeah, you like that, baby_ —

He stood up from his chair, forcing that train of thought to come screeching to a stop on the tracks. He couldn’t have a boner in the nurse’s office, _Jesus_. There was a bathroom right down the hall, he could go there—they’d have pads, right?

He was out the door before finishing the thought, and it was fortunate that most students were in class, because his cock was tenting out his trousers and he was waddling to the bathroom to try to not soak his pants. Once inside, he headed immediately for the big stall, and locked himself in. There was a pad dispenser on the wall and he grabbed one quickly, shoving off his trousers and pants.

The cool air on his bum had him relaxing somewhat. The tight restriction of clothes on his cock was gone, as was the scrape of cloth across his hypersensitive skin. He reached back to lightly touch his bum, feeling the slick all the way up and down his bum, nearly to his balls. Fuck.

Then he brushed his fingers over his hole, and he didn’t mean to start masturbating in his school’s bathroom when he came in there, but sliding a finger inside himself brought intense relief, and then he had two in a second later.

His eyes closed on a muffled groan, and he rocked his hips back, trying to rotate his fingers to find his prostate. His fingers. He couldn’t get it out of his head that they were his own fingers, and he couldn’t seem to get it just right. Louis was perfect at this, at prepping him, spreading him. The thought of Louis’ fingers had him adding a third and snapping his wrist to fuck himself thoroughly, but it still wasn’t enough, wasn’t his alpha, and he was growing more desperate at not feeling full, not feeling complete. God. Louis—Louis walking in, Louis finding him stuffed full of his fingers, pretending it was Louis. _Yeah, want my knot?_ Louis’ voice, low and smug, was crystal clear in his head and he groaned aloud.

Coming always made his heat feel better, and he reached around with his other hand to tug at his cock. His fingers, his arse, his cock, Louis. He was winding himself up, trying to reach that peak, but it wasn’t working. He pumped himself faster, harder, crooking his fingers, trying to imitate the techniques that Louis always used on him. He was falling short, and felt like he was going to cry in frustration.

It was then that the door to the bathroom swung open, bringing with it a faint smell of _alpha,_ warmth and strength and cinnamon and home _—Louis._ His entrance clenched tightly around his fingers involuntarily at the scent, and he managed to just stifle a groan. Then Louis’ voice called out, tense and worried, “Hazza, baby, you in here?”

His movements stuttered, and then he was whimpering aloud, fucking himself again on his fingers. _Louis_. He needed Louis, his alpha, needed his fingers and his mouth and his cock. He opened his mouth to try to voice this need he felt, overwhelming need, but all that came out were whimpers.

“Fuck, baby, unlock it,” Louis groaned, tapping on the stall door. He sounded desperate, too, all low and commanding. His smell was sharper now, cloaking them both in arousal. “I’m here, baby, unlock the door,” he added urgently, strained.

Harry jerked, somewhat in a haze, and then moved to obey. He would always move to obey Louis when he sounded like that: high and concerned and like he needed his omega as much as Harry needed him.

He had just a moment to admire Louis: lazy day sweats hugging his thighs to the angled lines of his face and the dark look in his blue eyes, hidden by golden-brown fringe. Then he was being dragged forward by his hips and Louis was roughly kissing him, sucking his lip into his mouth. The first touch from his alpha was always like being struck by lightning, and then he was shuddering in Louis’ arms, shoving himself closer. He was just slightly taller than Louis, now, and so he shrunk himself, spreading his legs and twisting to fit himself properly into Louis, arching his back. It wasn’t close enough, wasn’t enough skin. He was almost writhing in Louis’ arms, trying to find a position that could calm him—God, please, he needed it. Needed Louis. He whimpered into Louis’ mouth, feeling undone and overwhelmed and unable to find words for what he wanted. Every spasmic movement of his hips dragged his achingly sensitive cock across Louis’ stomach and jolted his fingers, still in his own arse. He moved them again, shivering in Louis’ arms, and the kiss turned fiercer, carnal. He tipped his head back in surrender: a gesture as old as time between an omega and their alpha. It meant he was Louis’, and was a plea for Louis to take over.

“Fingering yourself in a bathroom, Haz, fuck,” Louis grunted into his neck before biting down, sucking hard into the sensitive skin above the hollow of his throat.

He cried out, frantic for a mark. Louis had to mark him—everyone needed to know he was Louis’, needed to see that he belonged to his alpha. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a high noise, incoherent. He felt feverish; he needed to get Louis’ cock in him as fast as possible. It was instinctual, this knowledge that only his alpha’s cock would settle this gnawing feeling of _empty,_ of _wrongness_ that made him feel so sick. “Please, fuck me,” he whined, finally finding the words he wanted, and that thick alpha cock pressed roughly against his stomach.

Louis claimed his mouth again, sucking at his tongue, and reached around to cup his arse, pressing their cocks together. Harry whined at the contact, flicking his tongue into Louis’ mouth—it wasn’t enough, he felt like he was losing his mind. He tore himself away and spun around, yanking his fingers out of himself to brace his hands against the railing in the stall, presenting himself to Louis.

“Please, please, please,” he whimpered, his hips arching back, searching. He was very close to tears.

“I’m here, baby, I’ve got you,” Louis breathed, palming his arse.

The touch jolted him and then soothed him. Two fingers pressed inside him, easily, and began to pump. He roughly pressed back against the invasion, rocking himself to try to find that feeling—he was still _empty_. A third finger joined, then a fourth, and his entrance was stretched wide, leaking all over Louis’ hand, and it _wasn’t_ enough. He did cry, then, a sob ripping out of his throat, and then quick gasping breaths as tears ran down his cheeks.

“Gonna fuck you now, Hazza, baby,” Louis grunted, and the fingers were gone.

He had barely any time to react to feeling even emptier—suddenly the head of his alpha’s cock was pressing into him and he couldn’t breathe. Inch by inch, Louis sank into him, wider than his fingers, thicker, fuller, until he bottomed out with a grunt, fully seated. Harry did breathe then, letting out all his air in a gasp that left his legs shaking. When Louis retreated and thrust back in, the omega felt a small pit of calm in his stomach for the first time all morning.

“That’s it, baby, I’m here,” Louis repeated, breathy but calm, and thrust again.

Harry arched his back into the thrusts, crying out as Louis pressed against his prostate over and over again. Louis kept talking, his voice unsteady and interspersed with grunts, and though Harry could hardly comprehend the words, the sound of it both soothed him and wound him up—he was going to come. Louis was still dressed, and the scrape of his shirt and sweats against Harry’s bare skin only wound him tighter. Louis reached around him to tug at his cock, and then Harry was crying and coming all over Louis’ hand and part of the bathroom wall.

Louis fucked him through it, continuing to pump his hand, using Harry’s come as lube. “Beautiful, baby, that’s it. Know you need to come again.” His voice was lower now, his thrusts rougher, and Harry shuddered as the sensations rushed over him. The hand on his cock was almost painful, but he was still hard, whimpering. He was overwhelmed again, in a new way: he couldn’t breathe between the feeling of Louis’ cock filling him, hitting his prostate, and Louis’ hand, tightly fisting his cock, and the dazed lightheadedness that was the result of not breathing properly.

            Even now, after being prepped and fucked for several minutes, he could feel a slight burn as his body accommodated the girth of his alpha’s cock. Even still, with Louis filling him to the brim and biting his shoulder and grunting into his skin, he needed more. Entirely too soon, Harry was moaning and a breath away from coming, restless and desperate for more.

“Your knot, _please_ , Louis,” he managed to whine. He needed it, that extra stretch and burn that made him Louis’.

“Fuck,” Louis moaned, and his thrusts became unsteady. “Can’t do it here, baby, Hazza, can’t—“

One particularly well placed thrust had Harry shuddering and crying as he painted Louis’ hand and the wall with another layer of come. The orgasm lessened the sharp pang of _emptiness_ , but he needed his alpha’s knot. Right as he opened his mouth to beg for it, convince Louis that he needed it, _deserved it,_ Louis pulled out entirely and then he could feel something warm and wet land on him—his alpha’s come. He shuddered again, feeling something warm and bubbly inside him at the feeling of being so primitively claimed and marked by his alpha.

“Gotta get you home, Hazza,” Louis whispered, and pressed warm hands to Harry’s hips, straightening him out. “Gotta take care of you, love.” He pulled his omega’s pants back up, knowing that leaving his come drying on Harry’s arse was the right choice.

“Please, Louis,” Harry whispered back, finding his voice and the acute sense of embarrassment in the calm before his hormones dragged him back under. God, he’d just been fucked in a school bathroom. “The nurse should’ve called my mum—“

“Fuck that, I’m just driving you home right now. You have your car today, right?” At Harry’s nod, Louis took him by the hand, looping a possessive arm around his waist, and lead the pair out of the bathroom.

A red-faced Niall met them outside. Louis had probably asked him to be a sentry. Harry felt another hot surge of embarrassment, and couldn’t meet his best friend’s eyes. “I’ll, um, I’ll let everyone know you went home sick,” Niall told Harry, sounding as uncomfortable as Harry felt. He reached out as if to pat Harry on the arm, but stopped abruptly at the _sound_ Louis made: deep and rough and _don’t touch him_. Harry whined in response, rubbing himself against Louis, unable to help himself. Niall muttered something else that Harry didn’t quite catch, jumbled and quick, and then he left down the hall, nearly running.

“Come on, love,” Louis murmured gently, and squeezed the omega into a tight sideways hug as he lead him in the direction of the parking lot. Harry followed him somewhat blindly—he was in such a daze that everything around him seemed to be happening in slow motion. All he was sure of was that he was with Louis and that he was safe. That was enough to settle his stomach, make him feel less empty.

No one stopped them from leaving the building, which was both a blessing and a sign of lax school security. Fresh air surrounded him, across his face, his neck, and he felt some of his tension evaporate and slumped further into Louis’ side. Separating once they reached his car was the hard part: after Louis opened the passenger door for him and guided him inside, he felt a sudden pang of _empty_ , of _need_ in the brief seconds it took Louis to climb into the driver’s seat.

“Louis—“ he choked out, frustrated because he knew he couldn’t yet get what he wanted. He grabbed Louis’ hand and held on, anchoring himself as Louis roughly pushed the car into drive. Normally he would tease Louis for his unsteady driving (sudden starts and stops, jerky transitions between gears, turns that were tight enough to screech the tires), but at the moment it just added to his growing sense of unease. Orgasms could only make him feel better for so long: he needed to be knotted, and soon.

“Almost there, baby,” Louis soothed. They weren’t almost there, but the lie helped a little.

“’m so empty,” Harry whispered, shifting in his seat. He was still so fucking wet, and more than half hard, and though he knew he was basically sitting on Louis’ come, it was more of a tease than a comfort. His knuckles were white around Louis’ hand.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” Louis told him without glancing away from the road. He was intent, clearly focused on getting to Harry’s home as quickly as possible, rolling through intersections faster than necessary and growling as he got caught behind slow moving traffic.

He wasn’t using his alpha voice, but Harry had two fingers in his mouth a second later anyways. He sucked hard at them, tasting the dried lube that was still on them, and feeling his cheeks hollow out. Having something in his mouth did help, and if he closed his eyes and ignored that they were his own fingers, he could pretend he was sucking Louis’ fingers, wetting them so Louis could fuck him with them. He whimpered at the thought, and the fantasy changed to sucking on Louis’ fingers as he was being fucked, sitting on Louis’ cock with fingers splitting his mouth open, full of Louis’ knot and fingers and come.

“That’s it, Haz. I’ll fuck you soon, we’re almost there, gonna give you my knot. Fill you up and keep you full, just like you need, huh, baby?” It was exactly what he wanted to hear, and he whined around the fingers in his mouth, rocking in his seat. Louis kept going, probably knowing that Harry needed this kind of reassurance. “Almost there, just a few more minutes, then you can have me. So pretty with your fingers in your mouth, doing so well for me. Almost there, Hazza.” Louis was almost babbling, high-pitched and concerned, and every few seconds Harry could feel his eyes on him, checking him. Amidst his shaking and gyrating in his seat, Harry spared a second to thank every deity alive that Louis was his alpha, that Louis did such a wonderful job of taking care of him.

Louis harshly pumped the brakes, making a quick right followed by a left, and Harry knew those turns, had driven them on the way home for years. He started whimpering louder, knowing they were literally seconds away from his house, that he was but minutes away from getting his alpha’s cock. His eyes snapped open, relief flooding him as familiar houses blurred by, and he actually cried as Louis slammed the breaks outside a familiar white-blue house on the corner. He had his seatbelt off and was stumbling out the door of the car before it was even in park, and crossed his driveway to fumble with his keys in the front door.

“Easy, baby,” Louis told him, pressing up against him from behind. Harry’s mind went blank as Louis’ warmth spread into him, his breath spilling across his neck. Louis gently took his keys from his hands and fit them into the lock, sliding the door open. They both stumbled into Harry’s house, and Harry very nearly collapsed on the carpet in the entryway to arch his back, present himself to his alpha. He was halfway to his knees when Louis grabbed him by the arm, plastering him to his side as he dragged him up the stairs.

They were barely in Harry’s room before Harry was fumbling with the button on his trousers as he tried to kick off his shoes. Louis was elbowing the door closed behind them. Harry managed to strip himself below the waist and practically dove for his bed, pressing his face into a pillow and shoving his hips up. This position drove Louis wild, he knew, and he was counting on it, desperate for it. Sure enough, he could hear Louis swearing behind him, and fabric rustling as Louis shed his own clothes. There wouldn’t be any foreplay, he knew, and he trembled at the thought—nothing but his alpha’s cock, splitting him open. He was so wet, practically dripping down the backs of his thighs, and he knew he was quite a sight: trembling, bare, with dried come smeared across his arse and his own slick glistening in the light from the window.

“Breathe,” Louis warned him just as the bed dipped behind him and the head of Louis’ cock pressed against him.

Louis folded himself over Harry, running a hand along his side and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He felt himself relax a little, and then Louis was sliding into him, thick and full and _right_. Something in him blossomed at the feeling, and like his body knew that this was _it,_ was what he needed. Louis started moving, and it was rough, fast and hard, but it was perfect, the perfect stretch, the perfect pressure, the perfect friction. He pressed his face into the pillow, trying to muffle himself even as he began moving his hips back to meet Louis’ thrusts halfway.

“That’s it, Hazza,” Louis panted into his shoulder, maintaining a harsh rhythm between them. Suddenly he leaned back, separating their torsos, and then Harry felt a stinging slap land across his bum, followed quickly by a second.

He came. Just like that: wet and messy and all over his blankets, and Louis didn’t stop, slapped him a third time as he thrust hard into him, rocking him towards his headboard. Being fucked like that was a whole-body movement, from the scrape of his cock against the crocheted blanket to his teeth sinking into his lip on every thrust to the shaking in his arms as he tried to hold himself away from the headboard. His face was wet against his pillow, tears and maybe sweat, and he was exhausted but not yet satisfied, though he had come only a minute before.

“—come on my cock, _fuck_ , ‘m close,” Louis was saying above him, and another slap landing across his bum, jolting him in a way that had his cock fattening up and a burning in his throat—Louis was going to come, he was going to knot Harry—

Louis stiffened above him, slamming their hips together and keeping them there. Harry could feel the base of his cock swell, knotting up and catching on his rim as Louis pressed the widest part inside. Harry couldn’t breathe; he could feel Louis coming inside him, warm and wet and filling him perfectly, claiming him, making him _Louis’_. His hips jerked, tightening around Louis’ cock, and then he was shaking and crying and coming again, over-sensitized and stretched open on his alpha’s knot.

Louis shifted their bodies so they were on their sides spooning, still joined, and reached up to stroke at Harry’s hair, untangling the curls that had gnarled together. Harry went completely boneless at this, wet and sticky but utterly relaxed. Louis pressed his face into the back of the omega’s neck, lazily kissing him, and hummed a few bars of an unrecognizable song. Harry was warm and happy, wrapped in his alpha’s arms and his scent, and his eyes fluttered closed, his face split into a dopey smile.

“Lou,” he whispered giddily, and the humming paused. “Love you, Lou.”

An arm reached over his body to cup at his face, lightly turning his head back so Louis could kiss him, all open and wet and lazy. He sighed happily into it, letting Louis suck at his tongue, his lips. For right now, still full of his alpha’s knot, he was at peace.

“Love you too, Haz,” Louis whispered back, pulling away to bury his face in Harry’s neck again. He could feel Louis’ smile pressed into his skin as fingers resumed playing with his hair. Louis’ chest pressed into his back as they breathed, perfectly in sync, and his eyes lightly closed, soothed by this closeness.

At some point he must have dozed off. The next time he opened his eyes, it was in response to an awful sudden pang of emptiness in his gut—he was _empty_ , so fucking _empty_ that his body forced him awake, the sensation eating at him from the inside. Belatedly, he realized the lighting in the room was orange rather than yellow, slipping into darker hues with the sunset. These were the only indications that time had passed; being in heat decimated his internal clock. He shifted, his arse wet against the sheets, belatedly noticing that Louis was both no longer inside him and no longer behind him, and instantaneously a bolt of nausea hit him—he was _alone_ , where was Louis? He started shaking, feverish and scared, and sat up, feeling a sudden head rush that nearly had him collapsing straight back onto the bed.

He had to find Louis—Louis wouldn’t leave him willingly, right? He needed his alpha, was weak and shaking without him. Louis’ smell was still strong in the air—he couldn’t have been gone long. He tried swinging his legs over the side of the bed, intending to get up and search his entire house for Louis, naked or not, but his muscles seized, trapping him. Being in heat robbed him of control to such an extent that it usually left him bedridden unless Louis was there to help him and _he wasn’t here why wasn’t he here?_ Tears were stinging in his eyes as he tried again; he had to find Louis. This time he managed to stand, but as he tried to take a step his leg buckled beneath him and he landed roughly on his knees on the floor.

He cried out at the sharp pain in his legs, awkwardly folded beneath him, and the tears came harder in his frustration. He _hated_ being helpless, feeling like the world was spinning around him and he couldn’t get it to stop or slow. And as he felt the hot arousal curling in his belly, leaking from his cock and his entrance, as it had for _hours_ now, he hated it, too, because it was just another thing he couldn’t control. When he reached back to his entrance to finger himself, it was angry and rough: he couldn’t help himself and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t convince his body they were Louis’ fingers.

The door suddenly swung open, roughly hitting the opposite wall, and Louis was in the doorway, tray with steaming bowls of soup in hand. Harry cried harder, in relief, and reached towards Louis with one hand, blinking through his tears. Louis swore, shoving the breakfast tray on top of the dresser with a clang, and then was rapidly sinking to his knees beside Harry.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he told the omega over and over, sounding shaken, but it was the sound of his zipper being shoved down that brought Harry some calm. Louis shifted beside him, leaning back against his bed, and then hands were on his hips and he was being dragged into Louis’ lap.

He rocked his hips back instinctively as he settled on top of Louis, and he was still crying, shaking, gasping for air, but he was in Louis’ lap and Louis’ cock was pressed against his thighs and the world seemed a little brighter. And when Louis aimed his cock up and Harry sank down, it was like the world had finally stopped spinning. He made a choked sound—thank you, he wanted to say, thank you thank you thank you—and Louis kissed him abruptly, cupping his face with both hands as his hips minutely rocked up into Harry’s.

Riding Louis was always a little difficult at first: his cock was large enough that it was always uncomfortable at the start, the tension in Harry’s thighs from hovering over him making the intrusion all the more difficult. Now was no exception: Harry felt full both in an existential claimed-by-his-alpha way and in a burning, stretching way. It wasn’t a very submissive position for an omega, wasn’t very common to see in porn or hear about in hushed whispers, but they had always loved it. Louis had said he liked the idea of Harry just bouncing, using his cock to get off. Harry loved watching Louis’ eyes roll back into his head and his breath catch as Harry sunk down. Though his body was still adjusting to Louis’ size, he craved that sight, and he sank all the way down in one quick jerk, grunting at the impact against his prostate. Riding Louis was usually slow and sensual, rolling hips and sloppy kisses, but right then he needed reassurance and he needed to be anchored again.

Louis softly sucked on his lower lip, the gentleness of his mouth in stark contrast with the way his hips jerked up in little pumps, like he couldn’t stop himself from moving. He ran a hand along Harry’s ribs, soft and sure, and tugged at Harry’s curls with his other hand, angling his head to have better access to his mouth. Harry felt himself relax, the uncomfortable stretched feeling at his entrance rescinding as his muscles unclenched. He rose up on his haunches—Louis leaned up, kept kissing him through it—and then slowly slid back down, his own slick easing the way. He could feel Louis’ little puffs of breath in his mouth, could feel his own breathing change—faster, unsteady—as this registered.

He pulled back from kissing Louis, breathing hard, and Louis took this opportunity to suck hard at the skin beneath his jaw. His hips stuttered to a stop, and he was still for a second, panting, his mouth moving open and closed in little silent fish-like exclamations. Louis’ hand slid from his hip to his cock just as his mouth nipped down his neck, and then Harry was shuddering and mindlessly jerking his hips forward, chasing the friction on his cock as well as the glide of Louis’ cock inside him.

“Want you to come, baby,” Louis murmured, his lips brushing against Harry’s neck.

Hearing his voice, even low and gentle, made Harry’s heart skip a beat and his movements on his cock accelerate, becoming more forceful. Louis tightened his hand around the omega’s cock and thrust his hips up, fucking into Harry with renewed vigor. He felt high and tight, like he just needed _something_ to push him over and then he’d deflate and come zipping back down. He was whining, shifting over Louis’ cock so it would hit his prostate, crying, chasing that _something—_

“Come for me,” Louis rasped into his skin, and it had a low tone of _command_ , an iron backbone, something distinctively _alpha_ , and it was exactly what he needed.

Harry made a choked sound, clenching wetly around Louis’ cock, and came, fast and messy and wrecked, all over both of their stomachs. Louis groaned, swiped a hand through the mess to gather some on his fingers before sucking them into his own mouth. Harry watched, transfixed by the way his cheeks caved in, how his throat bobbed as he _swallowed Harry’s come._ Harry could feel Louis’ cock throb inside of him, and then he was shaking and hard again and fucking himself down as hard as he could manage.

“Fuck, Louis, your _knot_ ,” Harry whimpered, everything about him aflame and over-sensitized even as he begged for more. He _ached_ for it with all of his being: Louis was the very center of his world, and he _needed_ this from him.

Louis was practically vibrating beneath him, pink-faced with blue eyes blown wide as he leaned forward to bite the place where Harry’s shoulder met his neck. His hands gripped Harry’s hips, holding him steady as he fucked up into him from below, increasingly rough and unsteady. Thighs shaking around his alpha’s body, Harry felt just as overwhelmed as Louis looked. He was achingly hard again—being in heat did wonders for his refractory period—and he could both feel and hear that he was wet enough to be dripping down Louis’ cock. Louis tore his mouth from his neck then to kiss him on the lips, and it was open, wet, sloppy, both of them tasting the remnants of Harry’s come on Louis’ tongue.

Louis made a strangled noise into Harry’s mouth, and his grip on the omega’s hips turned bruising, his hips slamming up into Harry. Then his thumb was pressing against the vein along Harry’s cock and he was moaning into the omega’s mouth and his cock was swelling up at the base. Louis thrust his hips up once more, locking them together, and let his head fall back against the side of the bed with a thump as he began to come. Harry whined, rolling his hips around, feeling his alpha’s knot fattening up inside him, pressing against him—he knocked Louis’ hand out of the way to jerk himself off, thumbing roughly over the head of his cock, twisting and tightening his hand around himself until he was jerking and coming in weak spurts all over Louis’ chest.

“C’mere,” Louis grumbled, and tugged him down so he was sprawled across Louis’ chest, come and all, his head fitting onto Louis’ shoulder. His alpha began to lightly stroke his back, palms warm and damp and just _nice_ against his skin. He needed this, needed to feel safe and warm. An unwelcome thought suddenly appeared in the middle of this haze, and it twisted and settled low in his belly.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered into his safe place at the base of Louis’ neck, voicing the thought, and the arms around him tightened. He flinched at the motion, and then pressed a kiss to Louis’ skin, as if to apologize. He wasn’t trying to upset him, hurt him.

“No,” Louis promised him, sounding choked. “No, baby, I won’t leave, I’m here.” The tension in his arms didn’t leave, but he slowly resumed stroking Harry’s back.

Once Louis’ knot had gone down enough for them to separate, he lifted Harry up onto the bed and fetched the tray of food from the dresser. The soup was long cold by then, vaguely unappealing, but the thought of being away from Louis for even the brief minute that it would take to reheat it was terrifying, and assuming his mum or Gemma had gotten home, Louis wouldn’t ever allow someone else to even approach the room. So Louis fed him cold soup, slowly by the spoonful, before slurping up his own bowl. The food sat oddly in Harry’s stomach, but he knew he had to eat, had to keep up his strength, and that Louis had made the soup especially for him—he had to appreciate anything that Louis made with him in mind. Mere minutes after being knotted, he was already jumpy and uneasy. Even Louis crossing the room to place the empty bowls back on the tray left him twitching and uncomfortably alone, empty.

Louis literally did not leave his side all night. At some point, he murmured something about a shower, and kissed and kissed Harry until he let him carry him into the adjoining bathroom and straight into the shower. Having the hot water blasting across his body had eased some tension he hadn’t known he’d been carrying. When he was wet and happy under the spray, Louis had sucked him off beautifully, tight heat and tongue, the sight of his alpha on his knees more than enough to render him a trembling mess, leaning against the wall for dear life. He lasted such a short time that he knew he would be embarrassed about it, once he got all his wits about him. Louis, for one, had smirked and smirked after the shower, all the way through drying him off until he pressed Harry back into the mattress, resting his head on the omega’s chest, tapping his fingers along to Harry’s heartbeat in the palm of Harry’s hand.

It was that sort of endearing habit that had Harry’s heart ballooning in his chest. It was one of the many reasons Harry loved him.

At another point in the night, Harry woke up sweating and crying, _empty_ again, and was sinking down onto Louis’ cock before he was even awake. His alpha always delivered when he truly needed it: he was already hard, probably from instinctively smelling Harry’s arousal, even in his sleep. From there, Louis quickly woke up and took over, pressing Harry roughly into the mattress and urging him to _fucking take it, like that, baby_. He bit bruises into Harry’s neck and left crescents from his nails all over Harry’s hips and bum and spanked him red and raw. When he knotted him and Harry whined and cried and came, he told him that he was beautiful, his beautiful little omega.

Alphas said the sappiest things when they had an omega on their knot. Also, Harry was definitely taller than him, so he wasn’t exactly little. That Louis insisted on saying it anyways was another reason Harry loved his alpha. That Louis was especially insistent on saying it while he was feeding Harry his own come was a whole other matter entirely.

The next morning, after a few more drowsy and rushed orgasms, Harry woke up feeling more like a person and less like a quivering ball of need. It wasn’t over, but it had abated enough that he didn’t feel like he needed to be knotted before breakfast. And it was enough that he was in the mood for boyfriend sex rather than heat sex, so he woke Louis up by wrapping his lips around the head of his cock. Louis made the most delightful noise, and wrapped his hand in a fistful of Harry’s curls.

“Fuck, your _mouth_ , baby,” he grunted in the most endearing raspy morning voice, and thrust his hips up in tiny little motions.

Harry let him take over, let him fuck his mouth in little rolling motions, just opened his eyes wide and craned his neck to watch Louis’ face as he came undone, spilling hot and wet over Harry’s face. His whole body jolted at the suddenness of having his alpha’s come all over his cheeks, his mouth, and then he was writhing, begging for Louis to touch him. Which earned him Louis’ mouth on his cock and three fingers in his arse, pumping and sucking him to a fast and messy orgasm.

“Breakfast,” Louis panted after he had collapsed just to the side of Harry. “Wore me out, babe, I need food. You need food.” He poked Harry in the side. Harry curled into a ball and shuffled closer to him, trying to absorb his heat. Louis threw an arm around the omega, hauled him closer.

“Can,” Louis began, and then hesitated, suddenly tense. “Will you be okay if I duck downstairs and grab, like, some toast or a banana?” He sounded unsure, and it struck Harry that though this was his fifth or sixth time being in heat, Louis had only been around to help for two of those besides the current one. His alpha was far newer to this than he was, and probably felt horribly guilty over leaving him, though he probably just didn’t know better—or thought Harry would sleep through his absence.

Harry tensed, too, at these reminders of the previous night, and he considered it. He by no means was done being in heat, and would still crave near-constant physical contact and regular knotting for at least at least a few more hours—how long had it been, anyways? However, he did feel more in control—far more in control—than he had the previous night. “Be quick?” he said finally, trying to sound sure of himself. He knew Louis wouldn’t let him downstairs with him, wouldn’t want to risk someone—his mum or Gemma or even just a passerby through a window—seeing him, or smelling him, or in any way witnessing him in heat. He didn’t feel particularly comfortable with the idea, either: being in heat was just so personal, and taking care of or even just seeing someone in heat was incredibly intimate.

“Of course,” Louis replied, kissing him, and then he was shimmying into a pair of shorts and was gone.

He might as well do something, rather than sitting and staring at the door waiting for his alpha to return. The sheets were pretty dismal, having collected quite a bit of bodily fluids over the hours they’d spent there. Harry stripped the bed, dumping the contaminated sheets in the hamper by the door. He tried not to stare at the door. He stared a little, unsettled already, and then busied himself by digging through his closet to find extra sheets for his bed. What he managed to find were old sheets that he was pretty sure had once belonged to Gemma before being shoved in a closet for years: they were purple and had the Little Mermaid on them. After glancing at the door, he remade the bed with these, taking a few breaks to glance at the door, going quiet to listen for Louis’ steps up the stairs. Really, he was handling the separation quite well. Bed made, he sat on the edge of it and picked at little bits of lint on the blanket.

When the door swung open, Harry was halfway across the room before Louis had even fully entered and was ducking his head to press himself against him, skin to skin save for the shorts Louis had on. “Lou,” he murmured into his collarbones, and in his voice was more relief than he intended on expressing.

“Hazza,” Louis replied, sounding worried. He shuffled around the plates in his hands to free himself to wrap an arm around the omega, pressing them closer. “You okay, Harry? I’m here, I’m here.”

“’m okay now,” he confessed as they managed to stumble their way to the bed.

“I made you toast,” Louis announced, shoving a plate at him.

Harry grinned down at the toast that was a bit on the crispy side, if not burnt. He ate it anyways, grateful for a bit of solid food. He didn’t think he could handle much more than toast at that moment, but having at least something for his stomach to work on was nice. And having Louis back was even nicer, although they weren’t as close as he would like, if the churning feeling in his gut was any indication. He shuffled closer to him, pressing their thighs together and taking Louis’ hand as he finished his own plate of food.

“Louis,” he finally said, and then paused. He wasn’t sure if he needed it, exactly, but he was feeling empty again and he knew it would help. He thought he might be flushing, both from arousal and embarrassment. It was easy enough asking for his alpha’s knot when he was already writhing on his cock or losing his mind in heat, but it wasn’t nearly so easy when he was just lucid enough to be a little ashamed of his body’s voracious needs. “Lou, I—“

Louis set aside his plate slowly, met Harry’s eyes with his own, shockingly blue. “Yeah, baby?” he breathed out, pure heat. His eyes darkened. Harry probably didn’t need to say a thing, Louis could always, always smell arousal on him—or simple need, in this case.

Ten minutes later, he was flat on his back with Louis’ cock inside him and Louis’ mouth marking up his neck. He was squirmy—at that point, he was honestly just incredibly sensitive to nearly every touch after having been thoroughly fucked about a dozen times in the past day. Louis took care of him, as Louis always took care of him, telling him he would come, talking him into trying, and roughly praising him when he did, coming in weak spurts as though he barely had anything left to give. He would try anything Louis told him he could do; when he was exhausted and spread out on the bed as Louis just simply held him there and fucked him, Louis groaned out that he was going to come, going to knot Harry and _fucking fill you up, baby_ and then he told Harry he wanted his omega to come on his knot, _one more time, you can, baby, you can._ Harry wasn’t sure he believed him, but between the excellent handjob he was receiving and the sudden thickness of his alpha’s knot splitting him open, Louis ended up being right anyways.

This time, both of them passed out almost instantly, the exhaustion and post-orgasm bliss catching up with them. The next time Harry woke up, it was to afternoon sun filtering through his window—they had slept all morning. He paused, waiting for the dizziness or the fever or the nausea to strike him, but he felt essentially normal. Heart suddenly beating faster, he turned to face Louis, taking in his adorably scrunched up sleeping face. He felt a rush of affection as he looked as his boyfriend, but no intense urge to hop on his knot for the hundredth time in a day or beg him for another orgasm. _Thank God_. As quickly as it had come, his heat had gone.

He was still down for a cuddle, though. He always wanted a cuddle. He scooted closer to Louis on the bed, shoving an arm under his neck and pressing their chests, thighs together. He threw the other arm over Louis’ hip, and if his hand fell perfectly over the curve of Louis’ bum, well, then it was a happy coincidence. It did wake Louis up, though, and blue eyes shot open as Louis took him in.

“I think I’m done,” Harry told him before he could ask.

Harry wasn’t offended when he saw Louis visibly sigh in relief. He was just as relieved, honestly—it was just better to not be scarily desperate for his alpha’s cock for days at a time. Especially since Louis had done most of the work. He was likely much more tired than Harry was.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Louis murmured, echoing his thoughts and nuzzling into Harry’s neck. “Love you, baby.” He sounded sleepy and warm, and Harry’s heart nearly burst.

“Love you, Lou,” he said back. He couldn’t keep the affection out of his voice if he tried. “Also, school tomorrow, you can’t sleep all week.”

“Yeah, fuck. School.” Louis sounded incredibly unenthused. Harry regretted bringing it up, killing his buzz. “Speaking of school, wasn’t your heat early? Thought it wasn’t until next week.” He lifted his head out of Harry’s neck to say that, meeting Harry’s gaze with a little frown.

Harry blushed. Heat. School. Oh _God_ , Niall heard them in the bathroom. He hoped Niall was still embarrassed about that, otherwise he would never live that down. “Forgot to take a suppressant,” he mutters, a little ashamed about his carelessness. Then he _remembered_ , and sits up straight, jolting Louis. He poked Louis in the chest accusingly and said, “Heeeeey. It’s your fault! You called me, and we—we _talked_ and I forgot. Your fault.”

Louis looked at him for a long moment, probably trying to decide if it was appropriate to make a joke. Finally, he cracked a smile, and caught the hand poking into his chest and brought it to his face to kiss it. “Sorry,” he said, but he was smirking, just a little bit. The kiss on Harry’s hand said that he was genuinely sorry for the stress Harry went through, but the smirk said that he knew Harry wasn’t actually mad at him. The smirk said he knew Harry had loved the phone call as much as he had. “It’s not my fault you’re easily distracted, baby,” he teased, running a hand down Harry’s chest in a way that could only be described as _distracting_ or _tickling_.

“I forgot to read for Bio because of you,” Harry pouted back at him. He was a little upset about the Biology quiz he had failed. That really wasn’t Louis’ fault, though, and he knew there would be other quizzes. Wasn’t his subject anyways. “I failed a _quiz_ , Lou.”

“Did you?” Louis looked kind of worried for a second, but when Harry just pouted harder, he seemed to realize that what Harry wanted wasn’t an apology or sympathy. “Baby,” he cooed back, grinning up at him. “All I did was ask you what you were wearing. The rest was all you.”

Harry frowned at him. That was _such_ a lie. “You told me you were hard for me,” he shot back, denying the awful accusation that he was in fact, very easily aroused. “You were _wanking_ on the phone, Louis, you asked me if I was wet for you.”

“I don’t remember that,” Louis said back with a completely straight face. He was _such_ a liar, and Harry wanted to flick his nipples and then kiss the living daylights out of him. _God_. Why was he this horny? He had _just finished his heat._ “I do remember you telling me you wished I was inside you. And I think there was a part where you had to put the phone down to use both your hands on yourself.”

Harry blushed, forcing a fake scowl onto his face. That had been his favorite part: Louis on speakerphone on his pillow as he rocked back onto four fingers with his opposite hand clenched tightly around his cock. “Yeah, well—well you used your alpha voice! Told me to stretch myself open for you. Something about your alpha cock ring a bell?” he snapped back, his heart pounding. Saying these things to Louis’ face was much different than over the phone, but if he was going to be horny, then he was going to drag Louis down with him.

“That does ring a bell,” Louis says slowly, bending his arms to rest his head on his hands, posture boy for casual. He was trying too hard. Harry knew he was probably, in fact, very hard right now. And probably very sore because of it—the omega wasn’t the only one who emerged from his heat overly sensitive. “Guess it is my fault then, huh, Hazza? I should’ve known you couldn’t resist me.” His voice was honeyed, smooth enough to make Harry’s pulse race, knowing something is coming. Probably him. Hopefully him. _God_. This isn’t his heat, this is normal horny, but he’d come so much. What was it about Louis that stripped away his self-control?

“You’ll have to make it up to me,” Harry retorted, trying to hide how very much he was into the idea. It was no use. Louis could smell he was wet, no question about it.

Louis sighed theatrically, his eyes sharp on Harry’s face. “Problem is, you’ve caught me at a bad time. I was up almost all of last night, and now I just don’t know if I can move much.”

Harry hesitated, not quite sure where Louis wanted this to go. He wasn’t the one with the killer dirty-talk instincts, after all. He usually would follow Louis’ lead. “I’m really wet,” he offered, dropping his voice to a lower register. It was somewhat breaking character, but it was true, and he was hoping Louis would be horny enough to take the bait.

He could see Louis’ nostrils flare. His heart was pounding in his chest, his cock hard and bobbing in front of him. Louis very clearly swallowed, and then said with an air of nonchalance, “I suppose if you came over here, if I didn’t have to move much…”

Harry was throwing a leg over Louis’ hips to straddle him halfway through that sentence. Louis made a disapproving noise, and when Harry looked at him in confusing, he twirled his finger, indicating Harry should turn around. He obeyed, moving so he was still straddling Louis, this time facing his legs. He shuffled up so he was hovering over Louis’ cock, lying hard against his thigh. He was reaching down to grab and position it when Louis made another disapproving noise. Harry whirled his head around to look at him from over his shoulder.

Louis looked like the cat who ate the canary. “Too much work for me, baby. Come a little closer.” He crooked his finger, beckoning Harry, and let his head settle back on the pillows, looking unbelievably smug.

Harry was a little slow to understand, but when he did, he was smirking to himself and scooting back to straddle Louis’ face. _God_ , his boyfriend was wonderful. Impeccable instincts. Before Louis could make some lofty comment about how hard it is to spread someone else’s arse, Harry was reaching back to open himself up before lowering himself closer to Louis’ face, balancing on his thighs. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath, and then the press of a kiss right on his entrance.

He tried not to immediately lose himself, knowing that he’d squish Louis if he just collapsed on his face, but rimming was something that just stripped away any semblance of self-control. Louis went wild for it himself, both receiving and _giving_ , loved ending up covered in Harry’s slick, loved the way he could make Harry come until he was coming dry. By the second kiss, Harry was already shaking and biting his lip. When Louis pulled back a little to bite at the omega’s cheek, Harry actually moaned, high and long and entirely too soon for it to not be embarrassing.

It spurred Louis on beautifully. He dove right in, licking over Harry’s entrance in a broad stroke, collecting the wetness that had gathered there. Harry felt it everywhere in his body, from his hole to his cock to his fingers to his toes: a pleasant tingling sensation, soft and steady. Louis loved to get messy, and he certainly was going for just that: he was unashamed both by how wet his own licking and little jabs were and by how Harry was fucking losing it over him, vibrating with the effort of staying still and not suffocating his alpha. Louis himself moans quietly, but Harry can feel it against his skin in the most private of places—fuck.

He switched it up a little, pointing his tongue to jab at Harry’s entrance, just barely pressing inside. Harry had been hard since well before this began, but now he was throbbing and on the edge of a cliff. Louis’ tongue was in his arse, wet and firm and fucking magical. He was so wet he knew he was coating his alpha’s face in it, and he knew his alpha would kiss him after, let him taste his own arousal, there for the world to see from chin to cheekbones on Louis’s face.

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry whined, his own imagination collaborating with Louis’ expert tongue to drive him wild. He bit into his knuckles, trying to silence the broken little moans that kept escaping his throat. Louis was determined to drive sound out of him, and started slipping a finger in alongside his tongue, tiny little thrusting motions. Biting his knuckles was nothing against the sound that wretched its way out of him at _that_. “Gonna—gonna come,” he announced shakily.

Louis grunted, and slipped in a second finger, pumping his wrist. His tongue made pointed jabs inside him, and his fingers brushed over Harry’s prostate once, twice. Harry stiffened up above him at this new feeling, and _fuck_ , that was it, he was coming. It felt like it was being dragged out of him, sharp and twisted, his body’s way of telling him to fucking cool it, he’d come dozens of times already. He collapsed forward onto his hands, and then dismounted, so to speak, shifting to lay beside Louis.

His alpha’s face was glistening. _Fuck_. He was kissing him without a second thought, tongues and teeth and a vague salty taste that he knew was himself. When he pulled away, it was with a gasp, and to touch his bottom lip that Louis had just sharply bit.

“Hey,” he protested weakly. He didn’t have the energy to really punish Louis for that. He could tell from the dull pressure that Louis was hard against his leg, and he reached to touch his cock, freezing as Louis flinched at the contact.

“Sore,” Louis gruffly explained, and Harry let go, a smile spreading across his face.

He couldn’t find it in him to be disappointed about that development. What was better than hearing that his alpha boyfriend had fucked him so well and so much that he literally had to take a break for his own cock’s sake? He tried to remember how many times Louis had fucked him, but was drawing a blank. He knew he was likely forgetting long portions of what had happened while he was in heat.

“I love you,” he responded, and Louis found the energy to smile slowly at him.

“I love you, too, baby,” he said back, and Harry ducked his head at the obvious fondness in his eyes.

“I could make you dinner,” Harry offered generously. It would be the first genuine, hearty meal either of them had in over a day. Burnt toast and cold soup did not count, no matter how much he loved Louis for making them.

Louis beamed at him then. Hours later, after they’d stuffed themselves and cuddled on every available surface and Louis had called his mum to say he was alive and spending the night again, Harry disentangled himself from a half-asleep Louis to actually read his Biology textbook. It was horribly boring, learning about plants, and he didn’t even fight back when Louis smirked at him as he climbed back into bed.

Louis did bring him a glass of water and his suppressant, though, so he thought that this whole mess turned out alright in the end.

 

 


End file.
